


Snowed In

by Wolfsbride



Series: Pers' Prompts [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Older Woman/Younger Man, Snowed In
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 00:47:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/998871
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wolfsbride/pseuds/Wolfsbride
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>M and Bond generate heat.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snowed In

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Persiflage](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Persiflage/gifts), [tayryn](https://archiveofourown.org/users/tayryn/gifts).



Bond curses both the elements and the person in charge of looking after Six’s various safe houses. There is a massive snow storm blowing outside and he and M had barely made it to their destination. Only his skill had kept them from fishtailing off the roads numerous times. 

Now they are here and instead of being safe and warm, they’re dealing with a darkened cabin, and no heat. Wonderful. Bond curses again. Out loud this time.

“I’ve managed to find some candles.” M’s tone is subdued. 

It’s no wonder. This place is not what either of them expected.

“I couldn’t find any matches though. I can’t believe there’s not one bloody flash light here!” 

Now she sounds more like herself.

“I’ve got my lighter. Hold on.” Bond carefully makes his way over to where she’s standing just inside the doorway to the kitchen. He takes several of the candles from her, shoving them into the pockets of his trousers. His lighter flares and he lights a candle for her and one for him. 

“I’m going to go check the breakers. There should be a generator here.”

“Alright. Be careful,” she admonishes him.

Bond gives her a quick nod. It’s not likely the danger followed them here, but it’s good advice all the same.

~*~*~*~*~*~

By the time Bond gets back from doing his check, he’s livid. The power is out, most likely due to the storm, which is beyond their control but the generator, which should be in peak working order, is also dead and that’s inexcusable. It’s not even like this safe house is particularly remote. If M doesn’t draw and quarter the person responsible, he certainly will.

He finds M in the bedroom, with what looks like all the bed linen in the house. There are sheets, duvets, blankets. She’s even managed to find the emergency kit and has removed the Mylar blanket. The candle is sitting in a shot glass on the bedside table and its tiny flame casts a dim glow over the room. She looks up when he enters.

“Given the weather, I expect the temperature will drop drastically tonight. I’d rather not die of hypothermia. Off with your kit, Bond.”

Bond blinks. His mind is whirring. Naked. He’s going to be in bed naked with M. Who is his boss. Naked. He is frozen.

M glances up, pausing in her task of unbuttoning her blouse. She’s already shrugged off her jacket. “What’s the matter, Bond? Afraid of getting into bed with an old lady? Afraid it’ll put you off your game for good?”

Swallowing, Bond shakes his head. “No ma’am. Of course not.”

He tears his gaze away from her generous bosom and the hint of brassiere he can see. He makes his way to the right side of the bed and puts his own candle into the glass. He takes his time, emptying his pockets of the remaining candles, his lighter, his phone. 

He keeps his back turned while he toes off his shoes and socks. He takes off his own suit jacket, his tie, his shirt and trousers. He leaves on his pants. He waits until he hears the rustle of M getting under the multiple covers before turning around. She’s looking up at him, an impatient scowl on her face.

“Well, get a move on, Bond! We’re wasting heat.” She rolls over and gives him her back.

Bond prays for strength and slides in next to her.

He almost hisses when his skin comes in contact with hers. She’s so warm and soft against him. He thanks the God he doesn’t believe in that she’s still wearing her bra and knickers.

M huffs. “Oh for heaven’s sake, Bond. Do get over it.” She reaches back and grabs his left arm, dragging it over her waist, pulling him closer. She wiggles against him. He squeezes his eyes shut and bites back a groan.

Fuck. He’s not getting any sleep tonight.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The blankets do their job at insulating and pretty soon it’s toasty warm under the covers. The heavy weight of M’s breasts lie pressed against Bond’s arm. The full curve of her arse is tucked tight against his crotch. 

In his head, Bond is breaking down his Walther, imagining torture scenes, anything to keep his body from reacting to the arousal surging through his blood. She feels so damn good in his arms. He wants to press her into the bed and feast on her.

“Does it bother you that much, Bond? Being in bed with me like this?” She sounds a little put out by the thought.

Bond clears his throat. “No ma’am.” Best to stick to short answers.

“Are you sure? You’re very tense.” She starts to twist in order to look over her shoulder. The movement grinds her bottom into his groin. Despite his best efforts, a whine spills forth and his prick starts to swell. 

M freezes. “Oh.”

“Yes. Oh.” More like oh my God but Bond refrains from saying it. He concentrates on not moving his hips.

“It’s just proximity to a warm body.” Her voice is shaky.

Bond laughter is harsh. “M, proximity has nothing to do with it. I get hard for you from across the bloody room.”

There is a moment of silence while M digests that and then Bond feels her shifting slightly. He’s distracted by how that makes her body slide against his so he doesn’t realize what she’s done until he feels the tickle of her now loosened bra and the rub of her bare breasts on his arm. 

“Oh. Christ. M?” He can’t keep his hips from thrusting against her arse, even as he’s waiting for confirmation.

“It’s alright, James. I want you to,” she says softly. “Only. You can’t fuck me. I’m sorry, but without lube to ease the way, you’ll hurt me.”

Well, that’s a disappointment but he’s never even dared to imagine this much so he’ll take whatever she’s offering. He eases his right arm under her body and pushes aside both halves of her bra so that he can cup her breasts in his hands. His cock throbs and grows a little more when he realizes that she’s so large she spills from his palms. 

“Fuck. M. Your tits are massive.”

Whatever she might have said is lost in a gasp as he pinches her nipples. Her back arches, pushing her breasts into his hands; her head rests against his shoulder. He kneads her breasts, squeezing them roughly, pulling and twisting her nipples.

Her cries make him a little insane and he rocks hard against her arse. It’s been decades since he’s come in his pants or wanted to get off so quickly. The fact that she’s rolling her hips back at him doesn’t help.

He wishes he could kiss the back of her neck, her shoulders, but the height difference makes that impossible. Given the choice between arse or neck, there’s no contest. He settles for humping her arse and rolling his thumbs over her stiff nipples. He’s fully erect and starting to get wet when M reaches back and shoves at his pants trying to push them down. 

“I… I need… Between my legs, James. Please. Now.” 

Bond moans. He moves back a bit and then uses his left hand to push his pants down, wiggling until he gets them off. When he presses back against her, she lifts her leg slightly. He slips his prick between her thighs. They both groan loudly when she tightens her legs.

His hands clutch at her breasts again as his hips snap back and forth. Her knickers are damp and he can feel the outline of her pussy lips against his prick. It makes him grind faster. 

M bears down, whimpering at the way his stiff prick makes the fabric of her knickers rub against her outer folds. It’s delicious but not enough. Hooking her fingers in the waistband of her knickers, she pushes at them. “Off. Off,” she gasps.

As soon as Bond grasps what she’s trying to do, he helps her remove them. When he resumes his position, the glide of his cock against the damp flesh of M’s pussy makes him curse. His arms tighten around her and he pulls her down on his prick, thrusting between her legs frantically. 

M shouts. “Oh! Oh God! James!” His prick is teasing her clit, barely brushing it every time Bond moves back and forth. Shoving a hand between her legs, she tucks two fingers inside and adds to the friction. 

M’s fingers brushing against his cock as she touches herself, breaks Bond’s control. Jerking away, he flips back the mountain of blankets and rolls her onto her back. He scrambles between her legs. She lays sprawled, legs open, breasts drooping. She looks down at him, panting. “James?”

Bond shifts down on the bed and M’s eyes widen just before he ducks his head and presses his mouth on her pussy. Her eyes close and she fists the sheets. “Oh God. James. James.”

He tongues her rapidly, riding out the roll and sway of her hips. He licks and nibbles at her folds, her clit, her inner thighs. He rubs against the bed, hard and aching. Thrusting his tongue hard inside her, he curls the tip and then pushes two fingers in as well. She keens and his cock and balls throb in response. 

He knows he’s not supposed to; she’s slick but probably not nearly enough, but he wants, needs her so fucking much. He draws back, crawls up her body. His prick leaves smears against her knee and inner thigh. His arms shake as he braces himself over her. 

“M. M. Please. God. Please.” He fucks against the mound of her pussy but it’s not the same; it’s not nearly enough. 

M stares back at him, flushed. Her pupils are dilated. Her hair is a mess. She shudders beneath him and then pulls her legs up, thighs tight against his hips. She grips his biceps, fingernails digging into his muscles. 

“Yes. God, yes!” Her hips arch, waiting for him.

Christ. Bond feels like he’s going to burst before he even gets inside her. He fumbles one hand between them and pushes down on his prick. The wet, swollen head rubs against her heat and he swears, while M whines and pushes up harder. The tip of his cock slips inside and they both freeze as it stretches her wide. 

Bond shakes. “A… Alright?” He rasps.

M breathes deeply. She nods. “More.”

He pushes a bit harder. It’s torture. He can feel her pussy fluttering around his cock, trying to accommodate him. He just wants to shove in and pound away. But she’s still too dry. He can tell by the rough drag of flesh against flesh. He stops, gasping.

M wiggles against him, trying to force her body to cooperate. When she winces and her face twists, she gives up with a cry. They are frozen in their agony of desire. Bond knows he should pull out, but he can’t bring himself to. When M slides her hands from his arms to his shoulders and clings to him, he knows she feels the same.

“James!” She wails. “Do something! _Please_!”

His hips twitch at the order, a tiny movement. M sucks in a breath. “Oh. Yes. Just like that!”

Her hands slip from his shoulders to his arse and she tugs. “Move!”

Bond shivers. She’s asking the impossible. He’s barely breached her. He’s desperate to be inside, wrapped in her warmth. M circles her hips, twisting her pussy around his cock head.

“Fuck! M!” His fingers gouge into the bed and his head dips. He gathers his tattered control around himself and slowly, carefully pushes in and out, never more than an inch or two in either direction. 

M holds onto his arse tightly. Her hips roll against his. Her soft whimpers drive him until he just can’t anymore. 

He stops, groaning deeply. “Please. M. I can’t!” 

Raising her hands, M cups his face. She leans up and kisses his eyes, his cheeks, his lips. “Let me.”

Bond locks himself in place and let’s M use him as she wants.

Now M is the one rocking against him. She twists her hips back and forth forcing Bond’s cock head against her clit. He bites his lip and hisses as she rocks faster and faster. She clutches him to her as she shudders and quakes through her orgasm. 

When she relaxes back against the bed, the tip of his cock is still inside her. He feels like he’s coming apart at the seams. She opens her eyes and smiles up at him. “On your back,” she whispers.

Pulling out drags a rough sob out of Bond. As he turns onto his back, his prick slaps against his abdomen. He rolls his head to look at her. “God, please. Touch me.”

“Of course , James.” Sitting up, M wraps both hands around the tip of Bond’s cock. He cries out and fucks into her grip like a man possessed. His fingers rake at the sheets. A litany of oh Gods split the air, then a loud fuck as he spills over her fingers. 

She strokes him through the aftermath, gentling her touch until Bond is limp. As he lies there panting, she retrieves the blankets, and settles them and herself back on the bed. She curls next to him and runs a palm over his heaving chest. 

“Do you suppose we could get Tanner to bring up some lube? 

Bond laughs weakly. Turning his head, he kisses her.

**Author's Note:**

> So Tay, this is for you, for taking time out of your own fic writing to come play in our sandbox. Awesome job.


End file.
